Three Point Games
by Aishuu
Summary: Short unrelated fics, set in the Tennis no Oujisamaverse. Anything is fair game. New fic: On the Naughty List.
1. Pillars

Aishuu Offers

Pillars

mbsilvana@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Dedication: For me. To remind me.

  
  


Echizen Ryoma knew one thing after Tezuka Kunimitsu left: the captain knew nothing about architecture.

"Become the pillar of Seigaku!"

  


Hadn't he told Ryoma that? Well, Ryoma realized how badly Tezuka had misspoken almost immediately.

  


Ryoma remembered his mother taking him on a tour through Italy when he was younger. It was something he remembered, though he hadn't been too thrilled about at the time. But his mother had wandering feet, and dragged him all over the world in an attempt to broaden horizon.

  


Hmmph. As if anything mattered but tennis.

  


Still, seeing the Pantheon had made him take a step back. It had been... impressive.

  


Not many things impressed Ryoma.

  


What struck him most were the massive pillars, stretching up for what seemed to be forever. He had stood next to one, amazed at the height and sense of timelessness. This place would last forever, even if it was destroyed. There would be an echo on the land, a place of permanence...

He wasn't fanciful usually, either. But the Pantheon seemed to remind him that there were greater things, which was probably what it was intended to do.

  


If you wanted to see pillars, it was the Romans you needed to learn from.

  


That was what a pillar was supposed to be. Something that supported, he supposed. But the Pantheon had many of them, and he realized that if the team lost a member, it would survived. Numerous members could change, and it would survive.

  


Momo had been forced off the team by Inui, and the team had survived. Ryoma knew that with Tezuka gone, Momo would likely come back, and he was glad for that. He missed his "do or die" attitude. He hated losing the challenge of the seemingly unbeatable captain, but Momo's return would be a balm.

  


Kikumaru's laughter, Oishi's caring, Kaidou's intensity, Fuji's unpredictability, Inui's intelligence, Taka's fire.. they all contributed to supporting the team. They were all pillars. Even if one cracked, the others would take on the weight of responsibility.

  


Tezuka knew nothing about architecture. Oh, no. 

  


"I won't become a pillar," Ryoma murmured to himself, watching the team practice as they prepared for the nationals. "I'll become the keystone."

After all, that was the important part. Tezuka had been the support of the whole team; now it was Ryoma's turn.

There could have many pillars, but only one keystone - if you took it away, the entire structure would come crumbling down. 

Notes:

Yes, I know the Greeks are the major users of columns, but this is Ryoma. Allow me a bit of leeway. The Roman ruins are a bit easier for me to describe, anyway.


	2. Where Jealousy Comes In

Author: Aishuu

Title: Where Jealousy Comes In

Fandom: Tennis no Oujisama

Challenge: Pure dialogue

Type: Yaoi

Pairings: Fuji/Tezuka, Oishi/Kikumaru

Rating: PG

Time: 14 minutes

Disclaimer: Not Mine

Notes: Something that burned... a concept I'd like to explore further at some opportunity. Maybe a bit OOC, but Fuji is hard to convey via just dialogue.

  
  
  


"Do you ever get jealous?"

  


"Of who?"

  


"Oishi."

  


"You get jealous of Oishi?"

  


"Nyah! No!"

  


"Neither do I."

  


"Really? I mean...."

  


"Where is this coming from?"

  


"I... well..."

  


"Did anyone ever tell you that your face would freeze like that?"

  


"Grah...."

  


"You might as well tell me why...."

  


"I..."

  


"Are you jealous of Tezuka?"

  


"Sometimes."

  


"It's natural, I suppose. He and Oishi have been friends since they started school here."

  


"It's more than that! Even though he's gone, Oishi is always thinking about him!"

  


"I've noticed."

  


"Do you miss anything?"

  


"Saa."

  


"That's not an answer..."

  


"Hmmm?"

  


"I was being serious. I feel so guilty for feeling... jealous. There, I said it. I'm jealous of Tezuka."

  


"Everyone is jealous of Tezuka."

  


"Even you?"

  


"Maybe."

  


"How can you be jealous of him? You're dating him!"

  


"That would be a better reason than most have, don't you think?"

  


"I... he's perfect."

  


"No one is perfect."

  


"But you just said-"

  


"He's irritating sometimes, though."

  


"I thought most people said YOU were irritating..."

  


"Maybe."

  


"Do you ever give definite answers about anything?"

  


"Sometimes."

  


"You're not helping! And can you stop smiling for once! I'm having an emotional crisis here!"

  


"Sorry. But what do you think, about Oishi?"

  


"I think he loves Tezuka."

  


"Maybe. But there's more than one kind of love, isn't there?"

  


"Yes..."

  


"And does Oishi love you?"

  


"Yes."

  


"Then that's the answer, isn't it?"

  


"But... I wonder. If I wasn't dating Oishi, and you weren't dating Tezuka, would they be together? Would they be happier without us?"

  


"I don't really care. I don't intend to let them find out... do you?"

  


"I... isn't love about making the person you're with as happy as possible?"

  


"That's selfless love. But that's where jealousy comes in."


	3. Pyrite

Author: Aishuu

Title: Pyrite

Fandom: Tennis no Oujisama

Challenge: Epiphany

Rating: PG

Pairing: Light O/K

Type: Angst

Time: Approximately 30 minutes (untimed – forgot, sorry)

Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei

Note: Spoilers for Genius 203. I blame Monnie for this one.

There is never comfortable silence between the Golden Pair – always Kikumaru is chattering, and always there is the feeling of something imminent, as though he is afraid of what the silence might hold for them.

Oishi doesn't notice, always too occupied with listening to his partner babble about the weather or his tests, their next tennis game or whatever springs to his mind. And Oishi will listen, because that is what Oishi does.

Perhaps that is why they are called the Golden Pair, because they seem to fit so well – one gives, the other receives. They are good friends, everyone knows, because they spend so much time together and can talk about anything.

Kikumaru always talks about inconsequential things, things that don't really matter. He doesn't talk about his home life, but rather of the things around him. To many, he is a shallow and selfish person, unable to see beyond his own face, his own surroundings. He is cheerful and nice, but there's not much to him, not really. 

Oishi knows better. Oishi has seen Kikumaru stop and give a crying young girl the Valentine Day candy he was gifted with to cheer her, he has seen his partner glare and clench his teeth with frustration on the court, seen him struggle with assignments that he just couldn't understand. Kikumaru's not stupid, but he does have math problems – something Oishi wonders if his partner is dyslexic, and thinks about questioning him.

But he doesn't ask.

Sometimes Oishi tries to think of Kikumaru in five years, in ten, and he cannot. He cannot imagine his partner any older than the cheerful fourteen he is now. He knows that Tezuka will be his friend throughout his life, and he can imagine visiting Inui and borrowing his notes as they go to Seishun University, but he draws a blank trying to imagine Kikumaru Eiji by his side.

The future is uncertain. He knows that better than anyone.

Kikumaru is a creature of the present, and there is a joy in him that is thrilling to watch, yet sometimes it seems fleeting. Trying to hold onto him would be a crime, like trying to capture a snowflake in warm hands, Oishi knows. Trying to pin him down with promises isn't his right.

_Until the day I defeat you... I'll play doubles with you...._

It's such a tenuous promise, both of them know. Oishi knows that Kikumaru is far better than he is now, yet they haven't played singles in nearly a year. Both are scared of the outcome, perhaps.

But that day will come.

There are certain lines they don't dare cross. There are certain things they don't talk about to each other, because they don't know how the other will react. Ah-un synchronization only works on the court – off court is another matter.

When something is bothering Oishi, he calls Tezuka, so far away in Germany. Tezuka listens, as Kikumaru doesn't. He doesn't doubt that Kikumaru would – he just doesn't want to burden him.

Kikumaru, too, doesn't talk about the important things. When something is truly bothering him, it isn't to Oishi he turns, but to Fuji, who doesn't treat him like a child. Oishi knows this happens, but doesn't make an effort to stop it. Perhaps he wants to keep the image of the carefree and determined Kikumaru in his mind, and pretend he doesn't see the pain that every human knows lingering in Eiji's eyes.

Together on the court they are unbeatable, the Golden Pair. That is the tie that binds them, the reason they exist as friends. And that is all that matters – right?

Kikumaru believes in dreams, and Oishi is a practical creature. Kikumaru believes that if they work hard, things will be okay, and Oishi can't help but be pulled along with his enthusiasm.

But all things change. 

The sun is setting that day, and somehow or other Kikumaru and Oishi are the last ones left in the locker room. It is not unusual – Oishi has to lock up, and Kikumaru intends to keep him company for the walk home.

Kikumaru is thinking of the impending Kantou Tournament. "Are you worried about Kantou?" he asks, swinging his feet idly as he sits on a bench.

"We'll do fine," Oishi assures his partner. The words are empty, a platitude, but he's used to offering them to the team.

"Really? Inui looked a bit sick today. I mean, aside from looking like he's sampled too much of his juice," Kikumaru said, sounding uncharacterically thoughtful.

"We'll make it," Oishi said. "Tezuka is expecting it."

Kikumaru gave him a smile, but it didn't seem to come from the heart. "And after?"

"After what? Kantou? We go to Nationals, of course," Oishi replied, not really paying attention as he checked the tennis balls and nets to make sure they were stored properly.

"No..." Kikumaru took a deep breath, and waded into unknown waters. "After after."

"High school."

"After," Kikumaru said, staring at him with blue eyes that seemed sharp. He is finally asking the question they have always danced around, and now Oishi cannot avoid it.

Oishi turned to look at his partner, about to say something about how they'd always be the Golden Pair, but the words dried up in his throat. He has never lied to Kikumaru.

"I... I don't know."

"What do you want to be, when you grow up?" Kikumaru asked suddenly.

Oishi doesn't know. Kikumaru shrugs and smiles helplessly, putting his hands behind his head. "You don't want to be a tennis player, do you?"

Helplessly Oishi shakes his head, and Kikumaru sighs. Together they look for something – anything – to say, but realize they have nothing to talk about.


	4. Culpability

Title: Culpability

Author: Aishuu

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka.

Challenge: non-song songfic - expanded

Notes: The song used is "I Still Believe" by Tim Cappello. This was originally for the "non-song songfic" challenge for temps mort, but when my beloved Arc expressed a rather large interest in it, I expanded it, so it's no longer a timed fic. Also, the lyrics are no longer as important. And it's Yamato/Tezuka.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He felt like he had been in a cave when he was told about what had happened to Tezuka. It was something that everyone else had known, and apparently was old news, but he had been so busy with his classes that he hadn't been paying attention to what had been going on in the middle school – he should have been.

He knew it was his fault.

It had been a spark from him that had began to light the way for Tezuka. He had been the one to set Tezuka Kunimitsu on the path to this, to destroying himself. 

Tezuka had been special from the very beginning; he had seen that. The first day of his senior year, he had turned his shaded eyes to the first years, trying to inspect what kind of talent they had coming up. Seigaku hadn't had a winning team in a while, and he knew that this year, too, would be one of rebuilding.

He wasn't sure for how long they'd been saying "Maybe next year" but he was determined that this time, it would be true. However, he needed to have something to work with.

There were only fifteen first years joining the club, a sign of how far the club had fallen. When he had joined, there had been thirty – but first years only wanted to join winning teams. The prestige of Seigaku was sinking, and the good players were moving to Hyotei. Hyotei was the team to beat in Tokyo now, not Seigaku.

Ryuuzaki saw his worried look as he studied his shrinking team. "We have some good talent this year," she said. "It's quality, not quantity, buchou, that matters." Her smile looked like a cat that had gotten into the cream as she walked over to the third years.

He walked over to the first years, trying to decide which ones his coach had been referring to. They all looked so small – and one was even wearing glasses. But that was the one who caught his attention.

There was something about the boy, a confidence that made him stand above his peers. The boy gave his name as Tezuka Kunimitsu, and said that he had some experience playing.

Some! If Tezuka had "some" experience, then he really wanted to see what "a lot" was. Tezuka was better than anyone Seigaku had, good enough to take on the third years and win. Like everyone else, he couldn't help but follow the progress of the light that was blazing beneath them, but unlike most of them, he didn't resent being defeated. In Tezuka, he saw the future of tennis – Tezuka was something bigger than he was, something better. 

He had never been more proud to lose.

But he was captain, and couldn't say anything. He had to keep the team's respect, and in making the decision not to praise Tezuka for his skill, he let the first year down. It was his biggest mistake.

The next day, Tezuka was attacked.

He had always realized that Takesue had a devilish temper, but he had never expected him to actually strike another out of anger. He wasn't there to see the blow actually land, but he knew what had happened, because the others told him about it after. He had only seen Takesue facing off with Tezuka, and known that the thread had finally snapped when Tezuka had offered his resignation.

He was a poor captain. He had let down the one who needed him most.  
  


The only thing he could do was keep Tezuka playing, keep him from abandoning the talent which was so beautiful and sometimes terrifying to watch. He said the first thing that came to his mind, challenging Tezuka to become the support of the team...

He had no clue what he meant then, but something inside of Tezuka seemed to ignite, and as he stared down into the light brown eyes, he suddenly saw passion for a game which had just been about skill before.

Amazingly, he had made Tezuka care about Seigaku. He had no clue how he had managed it, but the next day, Tezuka had been on the courts again, playing harder than ever, seeming to burn from the inside.

He should have noticed that Tezuka's injury was more severe than any of them thought – if he had, and made Tezuka seek medical attention, perhaps it wouldn't have happened the way it did.

He was to blame.

The night he found out about the Hyotei game, and Tezuka's ruined shoulder, he had wanted give in to the tears that had threaten to overwhelm him. No one was going to accuse him of the crime, but he knew his sin too well to deny it. But crying wasn't going to solve anything, and Tezuka wouldn't have respected him, had he given in to the temptation to break down. Not that he deserved the respect of a boy who was so much higher than he could ever hope to be.

He had problems sleeping that night, trying to accept the fact that it was likely Tezuka would never play tennis again. Tezuka had always been a bright and shining thing, one who defeated even him when he had been captain, but now that perfection had been cracked and left alone, as though no more than a dream.   
  


He lay flat on his back, staring at the wall in front of him. The picture was of a vessel out at sea, one which he usually found relaxing, but that night, he felt himself being drawn in, and it was hard to breathe. It was melodramatic, but he wondered if the darkness that surrounded him in his normally comfortable bedroom was going to envelop him whole.

He had to accept what had happened, but all he could see was a mental picture of Tezuka, on the ground, wincing as he clenched his ruined shoulder. 

It wasn't real, he knew, but it may have well as been. 

It was the third night after he found out that he received a message on his cell phone. It was one he hadn't been expecting. It was short and cryptic, but he understood.

_I'm leaving for __Germany__ soon. I'll be at the court at 9 tonight._

He didn't have to ask who it was from – and he knew he would go.

He went out on his own, walking the streets toward the school, looking at the empty faces of the strangers that he met. None of them seemed to be familiar, even though a few of them called his name. He wanted to go home and avoid the impending encounter – he didn't know how to apologize to someone whose life he had destroyed, however inadvertently.

He lived close to the middle school, and the tennis court brought back memories of his day with the team. He had had some of his best years here, even though they had never done anywhere near as well as the team had under Tezuka's leadership. Tezuka was a real captain – he had been a failure.

He heard the sound of balls being hit, and wondered who was still there with Tezuka. As he rounded the final turn, his jaw dropped.

Tezuka... was playing.

He had forgotten how Tezuka had once used his right hand so expertly, but now, under the light of the courts, Tezuka stood, staring in determination as he served the ball. From the balls scattered around, it was clear he had been practicing for a while.

  
_What did he feel?_ the former captain wondered as he stared at the tennis prodigy. Tezuka... was still...

And then Tezuka smiled slightly as he caught sight of his idol. "Yamato-buchou," he said, and there was no blame, no recrimination, simply pleasure at seeing his former mentor. "I'm glad you could make it."

_What did I know?_ he wondered, staring as Tezuka wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. _For people like him, there's nothing except tennis.... and I had forgotten. Tezuka is__ the pillar of Seigaku, and I should never have believed he would resent me for any of it.   
  
_

He didn't say anything as Tezuka walked toward him, now the same height as he was. When Tezuka finally reached him, he noticed a slight glimmer in Tezuka's eyes. To his surprise, Tezuka bowed low, an inferior to a superior. "I'm sorry I couldn't win it... but I played my best. I have no regrets," Tezuka said, his voice low and soft, but full of... not pride, but content.

He had made this man – and Tezuka was a man, he could see. He wanted to say so much, to tell Tezuka of the mistakes he had made, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he reached out to raise Tezuka upright, and say what Tezuka most needed to hear. 

"I still believe in you."

END


	5. The Diary of Ryuuzaki Sumire

Title: The Diary of Ryuuzaki Sumire  
Author: Aishuu  
Fandom: Prince of Tennis  
Type: Yaoi/Humor  
Pairing/Characters: Hard to list   
Rating: PG-13, pushing R  
Summary: The trials of being a coach of one of the gayest tennis teams in existence.  
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka.  
Notes: One of my "crack fics" with way too many implied pairings.   
Challenge: Minor characters.  
Time: 55 minutes (plus editing)

~*~*~*~*~*~*

We held our ranking matches today, and not only does that usually give me an idea of who the regulars are going to be and what their strengths are, but it also lets me know what the personalities are going to be, and if... that... is going to be a problem. It's been a quiet few years, so I should have expected it, especially with this year's class of seniors, but I had been hoping...

It's going to be one of those years – I can feel it in my bones. They come and go, but this one is going to be especially bad.

I'm not worried about making nationals. I'm pretty sure the team will be good enough to do it rather easily... though I'm not telling them. No, it's the _other_ thing that's the problem.

Why are all the pretty ones usually so... _gay?_

*

As I expected, the Golden Pair is going to be my worst problem. After practice I almost caught them making out behind the clubhouse. They managed to break it off just in time, but I haven't been a coach for... well, a while... without learning how to recognize that look. Kikumaru's face was still a bit flushed, and Oishi was adjusting his shirt in front of himself to hide what I'm sure was a rather large boner.

Why the hell did I nickname them the Golden Pair? It was just asking for trouble.

Don't get me wrong – I'm not homophobic. But if Ishikawa finds out about how much trouble they get into, he's going to cut my funding. And I'm sick of walking into the teacher's lounge and losing the "my team is less gay than yours" game. 

Thank god I have Tezuka. There's no way he's going to tolerate anything that even resembles fooling around on his team.  Not only did I appoint him because of his superior skills, but there's no way he'll ever start messing around with one of his teammates. 

I'll admit it – ulterior motive.

*

Good day today. Practice actually went smoothly. No incidents.

*

I haven't made up my mind what to think about Fuji. He was a regular last year, too, and I never caught him doing anything wrong... but that could just be that I never caught him. I always get the feeling he's laughing at me.

I need to break his habit of calling me "Sumire-chan." Fighting him, though, may just not be worth it.

Inui dragged out something he called Inui Juice as a punishment to those who failed to complete the training exercise as planned. Everyone (well, except Tezuka but Tezuka is always an exception) ended up drinking it, and they all ended up nearly passing out, except Fuji. 

Fuji is like that, though.

I had to end practice early so they could recover – but we'll see if the negative reinforcer helped. One positive thing immediately sprang to mind -  the Golden Pair were too sick to "comfort" each other.

*

Please let me hold on until after nationals. I'm retiring after this year...

Kawamura and Fuji.... Kawamura and Fuji....

I caught Fuji tracing patterns in Kawamura's good hand with his fingertips, talking about how skilled a sushi-chef's hands were. It wasn't just the conversation...

It was where Fuji's _other_ hand was.

*

Echizen Ryoma is a problem child, of course, but not entirely in the way I was expecting.

I thought he'd annoy his senpai (he has), show off (which he does constantly) and chase girls. It's the chasing girls thing he apparently hasn't inherited from his father. He could just be too young, but I remember Nanjirou at that age.

Bad train of thought. Anyway, the problem is Ryoma.

A few of his senpai are taking a rather close, personal interest in him. I've caught Tezuka, Fuji, Inui, Momoshiro and Kaidou all staring at him for periods of time that are longer than appropriate. Tezuka is probably only interested in him because of that "pillar of tennis" thing he has going, and Kaidou most likely only sees him as a rival, but the other three are worrying.

Fuji and Inui always make me worried, because I have no way of knowing what either of them are thinking. And Momoshiro....

He takes his rivalry with Kaidou just a bit too far, and I've got serious suspicious about the way he lets Ryoma ride to school with him.

There is no _way_ I'm going to let Ryoma fall into the trap of Seigaku. 

*

Arranged with Nanjirou to have Sakuno coached by Ryoma. She may not be the best choice for him, but at least she's a member of the correct gender.

*

Ryoma is a thick, thick child. Maybe too thick to notice the sexual tension flying around him, which may be his saving grace. If I can just get this class of seniors to graduate before they influence him, it may be alright.

Though Momoshiro and Kaidou....

Kaidou wouldn't know sex if it hit him upside the head wearing a nametag, but Momoshiro is one of those "basic instinct" kids I get pretty consistently – all about keeping himself fed, doing well in sports, and has a really dirty mind. 

I swear he gets turned on by picking fights, but at that age, boys get turned on by walking across the street. I'm just worried that one day he's going to stop yelling at Kaidou and start kissing him. And Kaidou, being Kaidou, won't back down....

*

I watched the first years high-tail it out of the club room, screaming something about Kikumaru-senpai and Oishi-senpai.

I do not want to know. Ignorance is bliss, Sumire, ignorance is bliss...

*

Have taken to wearing a heavy key ring. It's annoying, but it jingles as I walk, and the boys have quickly caught on. I haven't walked in on anything, though Oishi and Kikumaru have had one or two close calls. I figure if I can honestly say I didn't catch them, it will keep me out of trouble if I ever get brought before the school board. This is one of the worst teams I've ever had.

Must do my best to keep Ryoma from being corrupted. Nanjirou will never let me hear the end of it...

...though it might just be worth the laugh, if that lech's son ended up gay.

Bad Sumire! Don't think like that!

*

Tezuka asked for permission to have a private match against Ryoma.

It was a bit weird – he could have just arranged to do it outside of the club, but I guess he wanted my approval. I am a bit worried, considering his arm and how we've got quarter-finals coming up, but Tezuka assured me it would be fine.

He's very intent on improving Ryoma's tennis. It's wonderful – sometimes I think those two are the only ones in the club (with the exception of Kaidou) who actually are here to play tennis and not fool around.

Inui was studying Fuji today in a way that made me wonder if Inui isn't considering gathering some "private" data on our tensai, and I swear Fuji winked at me when he noticed me looking at them. 

The insufferable bastard.

*

Please tell me that wasn't a hickey I saw on Tezuka's neck today.

Please tell me that wasn't a hickey I saw on Tezuka's neck today.

Please tell me that wasn't a hickey I saw on Tezuka's neck today.

*

I tried to get a closer look at Tezuka's neck, but he didn't take his jacket off, so there's no way I can be sure. I'm trying to convince myself it was some kind of rash, but I'm not stupid. 

I recognize a hickey when I see one.

Maybe Tezuka's gotten himself a girlfriend? 

And pigs fly. The question is, which one was it? He had that game with Ryoma...

No, please, no... not them, too...

*

St. Rudolph's went down pretty easily, though the Golden Pair lost. They took off pretty quickly after to have some "partner bonding time" so I'm pretty sure I have a good idea what they got up to.

The Momoshiro-Kaidou pair worked out well... too well. I need to make sure I don't form another regular doubles pair, because if I do, I'm screwed...

Or someone else is.

Did I just write that? Anyway, if I let another doubles pair form, that means I'm guaranteed to have another pair of gay boys who are impossible to pry apart. Trying to keep Oishi and Kikumaru from getting caught is enough trouble, thank you...

*

Fuji apparently likes to flirt. I had to stop him and Ryoma from going at each other on the court in the middle of a thunder storm. Another ten minutes, and they would have been making out, audience or not.

So much for Nanjirou's son being straight. 

*

Ranking matches tomorrow. It's going to be ugly.

Note to self: make sure club room has an attendant at all times to keep items from being stolen, since so many people will be going in and out.

Hopefully attendant will keep certain people from using it as make-out location.

*

I always knew Inui was obsessed with Tezuka, but it was rather interesting to see that obsession play out on the tennis court.

It must have been quite upsetting for Inui to realize that the last two years of his research have been pretty useless, since Tezuka is always going to be a better player, but if anything, he just seems even more obsessed.

The way he watched Tezuka... well, if Tezuka was a piece of cake, Inui would have eaten him in one bite. 

Luckily Tezuka's not anything edible... I hope? I still am getting flashbacks to that hickey.

Momoshiro was dropped from the regulars. I smell trouble brewing.

*

I was right.

The Golden Pair had a spat over Momoshiro and now aren't talking. I should be relieved, because that means I won't catch them making out anymore, but I know it's going to just mean trouble for everyone in the end.

*

Fuji is a slut.

Fuji apparently decided the way he could be a good friend to Kikumaru was by "comforting" him in his period of loneliness. Sadly, it seemed to involve a lot of tongues, hands, and if I'd been five minutes later, I'm sure a lot less clothes.

Kikumaru had enough grace to blush and high-tail it out of there, but Fuji just said, "Ohayo, Sumire-chan!" before sauntering out like nothing was wrong.

I'll "Ohayo!" him!!!

If anyone wonders why he and Kikumaru had an extra fifty laps, they can explain!

I forgot to wear my key ring, so I guess it was my fault I walked in on him and Kikumaru, but, dammit, did they have to use my office?

*

The Golden Pair is back together, and all is right with the world...

...and Tezuka had another hickey.

Someone shoot me and put me out of my misery.

*

No problems with Yamabuki, though Kawamura stayed after to talk to that psycho who was his friend.

Kawamura has some seriously questionable taste. First Fuji, now Akutsu?

I don't care. It's happening off my team, and I can pretend I don't know.

*

I have learned to tolerate their gayness, really. I've given Ryoma up as a lost cause, and I've even decided that what Tezuka does is his own business...

But they can't expect me to be calm about threesomes!!!

I was doing my final check after everyone should have gone home, and I walked in on... them: Fuji, Tezuka, and Ryoma.

All naked and in a pile on the shower floor. 

Tezuka had the grace to look a bit embarrassed, but Ryoma just straightened his hat (why he was wearing his hat and not anything else I do not know) and gave me a smirk, and Fuji just opened his eyes and smiled.

I should kick them all off the team – but we've got to win Nationals this year, and if I kick them off, I lose my entire singles line up.

So what did I do?

I just told them to lock up when they were done. And left to go home and get thoroughly drunk.  Sometimes, the only thing you can do is just see how many glasses of sake it takes before the world starts spinning.

Besides, next year has to be better, right? It's not going to happen again. I mean, there's only Momoshiro, Kaidou and Ryoma left...

Fuck. That's a scary threesome.

END


	6. A1 Placement

Story: A-1 Placement

Author: Aishuu

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka!

Time: 65 minutes total

Challenge: Journalism

Type: Gen

Pairings: N/A

Notes: A-1 Placement refers to front page placement of a picture/story in a newspaper. Very valuable, since freelancers are often paid rates according to how prominently their stories are placed – and staff need to keep on the front as well.

*

When Fuji Syuusuke was eighteen, barely graduated from high school, he ignored other's expectations for university or a professional tennis career and instead chose to enter the work force directly. It wasn't entirely unexpected, since he always marched to the beat of his own drummer, but many were disappointed. While he had talent as a photographer, talent wasn't enough to make a living. Talent didn't feed you, especially when you were a freelance photographer.

He was determined to prove them wrong.

He didn't realize how naïve that sentiment was. Eighteen and fresh out of school, and secretly convinced that the world would spin the way he wanted it to – Fuji Syuusuke was riding for a fall.

It came two years later, when he found himself having to choose between paying for his rent or food for the week. He was too proud to tell his family – and as well off as they were they would have gladly helped their beloved oldest son – that he had been wrong, and too stubborn to admit that he might have been wrong. The commissions he received for his work were an unsteady flow, and no matter how careful he was with his money, it inevitably ran out between checks.

That was how the real world was like.

Around him, his former classmates were going to school and enjoying college life. Eiji often invited him out to play, whether it was to go eat or a movie or a club, but Fuji always begged off, explaining that he had work to do.

It wasn't true. Work was too irregular for him to be that bogged down – he just didn't want to admit that for once, all his genius and cunning couldn't beat the system. Eiji didn't seem to notice, but he suspected that Inui or Tezuka did, the few times they tried to get in touch with him. Kawamura constantly was inviting him over to sample his cuisine, but Fuji couldn't accept that kind of charity.

But he loved his job. He loved catching images on camera, and showing people something they might have missed; he loved the wizardry required to work in a dark room; he loved meeting new people and seeing new things. He had an exciting profession, or so a lot of people thought.

"What do you do for a living?" someone would ask, and when he would reply he was a photographer, and they would glow and ask questions, charmed by the mystique of his career. Few of them realized how much work was involved, sometimes, in capturing the perfect shot.

He loved his job, but sometimes practicality had to win.

That day, when he finally paid his rent for the month and bought enough dried ramen to last the week if he ate sparingly, he came to a decision. Freelancing was risky, especially for a twenty-year-old no-name with no real credentials, so he would have to seek out steadier employment. He'd lose much of the freedom he cherished, but perhaps looking at becoming a photojournalist for a newspaper or magazine would be best. A steady wage might mean that someday, he would again be in the position to freelance... and make enough to live on.

It was hard to find a position, and eventually he had to move out of Tokyo to a smaller town, where the competition wasn't so fierce. The position he found was at a medium-size paper with a circulation of 50,000, and a managing editor with the temper of a dragon.

She was a woman in her forties, and she had a penchant for hiring new talent and having them leave her as soon as they had worked on their portfolio enough to move onto bigger and better things – or they snapped. She was a hard taskmistress, but Fuji didn't mind. His easy smile and laid back acceptance of some of her crazier ideas earned points with her, and that was what mattered. Within months of signing on, his pictures were almost always on the front of the paper daily.

The rest of the staff hated him. They found his smile grating, but Fuji didn't care. He had never really cared much for what others thought of him, and he was used to those with lesser talent being jealous.

It was familiar ground.

There were parts of his job he didn't like, and that was working with the writers. Often times, he would be sent out on assignment with one to take pictures, and the second-class treatment he received grated on his nerves. Having his work associated with mediocre stories was something he could do without.

Fuji remained with that paper for three years, and found little time to pursue his own interests. During his second year, the company made the transition from film to digital, and he found himself missing the time he spent in the darkroom. He maintained a film camera and often used the bathroom in his apartment as a darkroom, but he recognized that the change was inevitable. There was much less turnaround time, but it seemed to him that he was beginning to lose a bit of control over his work. He began to spend less and less time with his older camera and in the dark room as he became accustomed to his new one.

The most exciting thing that happened at that time was that the AP Wire picked up four of his photos for publication. One was on a funeral of a renowned resident – he'd caught a small girl walking by the hearse, and focused on the reflection of the flowers against the dark black of the car, her slightly out of focus face softened by tears. The second time there had been a minor earthquake in the area, but two had died – he'd found a teddy bear in a ruined house, and using that as the foreground, he'd taken a shot of the rescue efforts. The third was for a kidnapping – a shot of the mother crying, holding her daughters picture as she begged for help.

Tragedy always got attention. None of his happier shots – those of kids playing in the first snow, the festivals or the quirky shots of people doing odd things were ever picked up. He felt almost guilty when a fire destroyed the main factory in town, and knowing as he took a shot of a tired fireman receiving cold water from a volunteer as the fire burned brightly in the background, that he had just taken his fourth shot that would go national. The repercussions of the fire would be devastating for the town – but wonderful for his career.

Fuji was right. He received a call from a Tokyo publication two weeks later, offering him a job. The paper had a better circulation, and he'd be back in Tokyo. He missed the city where he'd grown up, and the temptation of going home was simply too much to resist. So he said good-bye to the dragon lady (who merely gave him rolled eyes and told him to remember her when he wrote his memoirs), and packed up to go home.

The paper he was assigned to work for had a larger circulation, over 100,000, and he quickly used to trailing around an annoying journalist who never remembered what his name was. The man was forty, decorated with awards, and seemed to have the attention span of a stick. He was twenty-three, and the man called him "boy."

"I have a name, you know," Fuji said once in the pleasant fashion that always got him what he wanted.

"Oh? I might bother learning it if you're around in five years," the man said. "High burn out rate here – seen a ton of you hot shots come and go."

Fuji had fumed a bit inside, but swore to make that man remember his name. His new editor, a stoic man who reminded him very much of Tezuka, didn't think much of him, either.

"I hired you because I thought I saw a glimmer of talent. We'll see if I'm right or not."

It took two years for Fuji to get permission to go out and take some stand-alone shots on his own, but when he did, there was no looking back. He received his first award for excellence in photojournalism, and soon managed to ditch the man who still refused to call him by name – only instead of boy, he was now christened "hot shot."

He didn't mind. He was. He was going places.

To get there, he worked hard, crazy hours, sometimes not having a day off for a week before taking three consecutive days to make up for it. He spent hours and hours behind the camera, taking those photos that jerked heartstrings and made him feel like a vulture, because those were what sold.

Bad news travels fast, and his reputation grew with it. His heartfelt, sensitive images began to win awards, and they began to talk about having a show where he could display what he'd seen. Fire. Floods. Earthquakes. Tragedy. Death. The worst of the human condition.

Somehow, it wasn't quite what he planned, but things tended to work out, he supposed.

And being in Tokyo meant he was closer to his friends, so he made time to see them. Eiji was busy, between dating and his new career, while Kawamura was preparing to officially take over for his father. It was more enjoyable to see them, now that he didn't have to worry about their pity.

He rarely saw Tezuka, who was doing quite well on the professional scene. He couldn't go to the matches to just enjoy, because he always felt like he should be working, and taking pictures, but they did arrange to get together for tea, every now and then. They would speak of politics and philosophy, both carefully avoiding mentioning the other's career. Tezuka found fame trying, and like to escape; Fuji liked to pretend that work didn't exist sometimes.

To his delight, it was Yuuta who he saw the most of. Their estrangement from their teenage years had melted away after Yuuta had chosen a business career, and while he was proud of his older brother's achievements, there was no jealousy in him anymore. Maybe that was why he worried so much about Fuji.

He often asked if Fuji was happy. Fuji would always give him a smile, and say he was doing quite well, thank you.

One day, when Yuuta had been over for dinner and drinks, he asked the same question, and received the same reply. Yuuta had been too drunk to not watch his tongue, and his question cut Fuji to the quick as he repeated himself.

"Yes, niisan, but are you happy?"


	7. Caged

Aishuu Offers:  
  
Caged  
  
A Prince of Tennis Fanfiction   
  
Yanagi/Kirihara  
  
mbsilvanayahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei's.  
  
Notes: For the "pet" challenge.  
  
It was Fuji Syuusuke who was always called the genius of the tennis scene, but Yanagi Renji knew  
  
that there was one other who was his match - Kirihara Akaya.  
  
Kirihara was a prodigy as well, the best of the best, and it was through no sacrifice of his own that he  
  
had risen to the top of his field - unless you considered the sacrifice of his sanity. No one would call  
  
Kirihara "sane" and spending any amount of time with him was a dangerous proposition.  
  
Yanagi knew this.   
  
And Yanagi still loved him, despite it all, fascinated by the mercurial moods of the younger man,  
  
drawn like a moth to the hissing fire that was Kirihara. Fire, unpredictable and life giving, but  
  
dangerous and doomed to burn itself out. Somehow, Yanagi attached himself to Kirihara in attempt  
  
to keep the conflagration under control, while warming himself in the evanescence of Kirihara's  
  
glow.  
  
Kirihara didn't care of the dangers he posed to himself - or to those closest to him.  
  
So it was Yanagi who paid the price.  
  
Kirihara was simple, and complex. Simple, basic, instinctual.  
  
He wanted to win, and would win throughout whatever it took. But he saw through things without  
  
trying to, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place without having to work on sorting through them.  
  
It fascinated Yanagi. The data he strove to gather through painstaking work was Kirihara's in an  
  
instant. All Kirihara needed to do was look at a person, and he Iknew./I He could do a full-  
  
analysis in that instant, rip a person to their core, and be done with them. It would have been  
  
extremely frustrating for Yanagi, who worked so hard to achieve the same, had Kirihara actually  
  
had the brains to realize what his gift was.  
  
But he didn't. He wasn't stupid by any means, but he wasn't brilliant.  
  
Maybe that was where the complexity came in. An idiot savant, Yanagi sometimes thought. But  
  
then he would do something so astoundingly brilliant and well-thought out that Yanagi would be  
  
forced to re-evaluate.  
  
That was how they ended up together, after all. Yanagi hadn't realized Kirihara was seducing him  
  
until it was too late.  
  
Kirihara was cute, and Yanagi had always had a fondness for the demon of their team, but hadn't  
  
realized that Kirihara was interested in him as well. He knew that Kirihara cared, especially after he  
  
stepped between Sanada's fist with his racket in an oh-so-casual manner.   
  
Later, he would realize that was the first part of a carefully staged seduction.  
  
Kirihara seemed to be everywhere he was, ditching Jackal at every turn so Yanagi would be the one  
  
forced to make sure he made it home - and then Yanagi would be invited to dinner with the family.  
  
Seeing Kirihara with his family made him realize that the boy was more than just a tennis player,  
  
but a son as well. When Kirihara needed help on his homework, it seemed natural for him to come to  
  
Yanagi, and then as a thank you, there was a pair of tickets to an amusement park, and would  
  
Yanagi-senpai be interested in joining him? Before he knew it, they were together every weekend.  
  
Niou began to tease him about his boyfriend, asking if he bit in bed.  
  
He had been too thick to take the Trickster seriously. He'd retorted with a comment about Yagyuu  
  
and Niou's switching roles in bed as well as on the court in a dry voice, not realizing that Niou  
  
tended to find truth in all of his taunts. Niou knew better than any that truth was the most dangerous  
  
weapon.  
  
It was too late, anyway. It only took a week for a naked Kirihara to push up against him in the  
  
locker room shower. Those blue-green eyes shimmered as he trailed his mouth down over his  
  
Yanagi's wet skin, finding the data player hard and wanting.   
  
"Fuck me," he commanded. "I want to feel you."  
  
Yanagi had run a hand through the dark curls, petting the soft face gently before lifting the other boy  
  
by the waist and pushing him against the wall. Kirihara had driven him insane with lust and sex and  
  
maybe a bit of love.   
  
He'd never been able to deny the younger boy anything ever since.   
  
They had been together steadily since that moment, though at times he thought Kirihara was about  
  
to wander. Fuji Syuusuke and Kirihara had a strange love/hate relationship, and he knew that if  
  
Yukimura ever indicated a bit of interest, he'd be dropped in a second. But none of those concerns  
  
ever manifested themselves, so he and Kirihara stayed together.  
  
When it came time for college, he chose Tokyo University. It was a two-hour trip from Kanagawa,  
  
and he knew that Kirihara wasn't going to be happy. However, Kirihara accepted it philosophically.  
  
"I'll see you on weekends, right?"  
  
He had nodded. He couldn't imagine not seeing Kirihara, not feeling the touch of his skin. They had  
  
sex fairly regularly, in the locker room, or at their homes when one of their families were away.  
  
Once they had tried a love hotel, but Kirihara had been so busy laughing at the materials in the room  
  
that it had been impossible to perform.  
  
"Then... what's the problem?"  
  
He couldn't tell Kirihara his fear that "out of sight, out of mind" would happen. He couldn't let the  
  
younger man know that he didn't think Kirihara loved him - that he doubted Kirihara knew what  
  
love was.  
  
His concerns were valid, to a point. Kirihara never wrote, never returned his phone calls.   
  
Kirihara seemed to drop off the face of the earth, too busy to be involved with the one who loved  
  
him. When Yanagi returned home those first few weekends, he was informed by Kirihara's mother  
  
that Akaya was training with his private coach, and shouldn't be disturbed.   
  
He gave up after three tries.  
  
The only times he saw Kirihara was in Tennis Weekly, as the magazine lay colorful spreads on the  
  
hottest player of the year. Kirihara was in high demand by recruiters, and had offers for both college  
  
and the pros. He wondered what Kirihara would choose. His data on Kirihara tended to be skewed,  
  
because the boy never thought in predictable patterns.  
  
Then in October, out of nowhere, he returned to his room to find his roommate standing in the hall,  
  
sporting what looked like the beginnings of a beautiful black eye.  
  
"Who the hell is that psycho?" His roommate asked in disgust with a trace of fear. "How dare he  
  
throw me out of my own room!"  
  
Yanagi knew who it had to be.  
  
Kirihara was going through his roommate's belongings curiously, messing with his CD's. He perked  
  
up and grinned at his lover as Yanagi entered.  
  
"Yo," he said casually. "What's up?"  
  
No undying promises of love, no excuses, no sudden demand for sex. Just... Kirihara. Yanagi knew  
  
then he'd never be able to throw him about of his life, because as those eyes sparkled at him, he was  
  
at Kirihara's mercy.  
  
Kirihara didn't exist linearly. He lived in a world unconcerned with time and place. It didn't matter  
  
to him what was appropriate - societal mores meant little, as long as he could get away with what he  
  
felt like.  
  
He got away with more than he should. Yanagi wished sometimes he had the courage to restrain  
  
him, but truthfully it was Kirihara who held the leash, and Yanagi who wore the collar. A bit of  
  
attention, and Yanagi would fall at Kirihara's feet, doing anything to see that smile, make him  
  
happy. The other was everything he was not - charismatic and willful, impetuous and daring. Being  
  
around Kirihara was to truly live.  
  
Kirihara wasn't a deliberately hurtful person. Once he had talked to Sanada about it, when Sanada  
  
had been angry at his former kohai. He hated the way Kirihara waltzed in and out of Yanagi's life,  
  
and the way his best friend allowed it.  
  
Yanagi had shaken his head after Sanada had spilled his bile. "You don't understand him."  
  
"I understand he doesn't love you."  
  
The words had hurt, a bit, but Yanagi's impassive face didn't show that. "Probably not. But I'm  
  
more important to him than anyone else."  
  
"He treats you like a dog he forgets to feed - and you're pathetically grateful when he does  
  
remember you do exist," Sanada had shot back.   
  
It had been too close to the truth. "Dogs are known for their loyalty," he shot back.  
  
"Even to those who don't deserve it?"  
  
"Especially then."  
  
Kirihara became even more erratic as they entered their twenties, and he entered the professional  
  
scene. He both loved and hated the audiences, and would sometimes skip matches to get away from  
  
them - but on the court he rivaled Atobe Keigo in glorying in their attention. Only with Yanagi  
  
could he find peace, but he resented being beholden to anyone.  
  
Yanagi, who was working on his doctorate, had immense patience with Kirihara, letting the other  
  
man choose their path. For a month, Kirihara would live with him, then vanish without an  
  
explanation for two to the apartment he maintained in Okinawa. That was around the time that  
  
Kirihara started to talk to himself, mumbling at first and then holding full-fledged rants.   
  
Yanagi wondered if Kirihara was losing his mind.  
  
So did Kirihara. He would yell and scream at Yanagi, who would listen calmly until the tennis  
  
player threw something. It seemed that the sound of shattering glass would calm him, and then the  
  
other would stop, and calm down.  
  
The period only lasted until Kirihara left for Wimbledon. There, he was eliminated at the quarter-  
  
finals, and he returned to Yanagi, instead of Okinawa. He was sedate and reasonable, and instead of  
  
being depressed over losing the title, he seemed to have relaxed, now that the stress was gone.  
  
That night, for the first time in ages, they had sex with the lights on. Kirihara, mischievous, kept  
  
Yanagi from coming in a long, torturous love-making session that lasted for hours.  
  
The next day, Kirihara was gone.  
  
And Yanagi knew that when he returned, he would accept him back, because he couldn't picture life  
  
without Kirihara in it.  
  
He was trapped as surely as a bird in a cage, and though Kirihara had the key, even if the door was  
  
open, he wouldn't fly free... because he enjoyed the tantalizing and deadly dance of Kirihara's coils.   
  
One day, Kirihara would destroy himself. He didn't need to analyze his data to know that - and  
  
when that day came, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would take Yanagi Renji with  
  
him.  
  
And Yanagi didn't see any way out of the mess which he had so thoroughly entrapped himself in -  
  
nor was he sure he wanted on.  
  
He was loyal to those he loved, even if they didn't love him. 


	8. Last Day of School

**Last Day of School **

by Aishuu

A Prince of Tennis spamfic   
_Notes: In honor of my ototo, who did exactly this and went down in school history for actually pulling it off. The boy was a bishounen...  
  
_

On the last day of school, the Seigaku Tennis Club came in drag.  
  
More precisely, the senior members of the regulars were the ones attired in skirts and dresses, their faces adorned with too much make-up and their hair teased terribly.  
  
As they sashayed through the halls on three-inch heels, Kikumaru and Fuji playfully waggled their fingers at the gawkers. Beside them, Inui and Kawamura wobbled less certainly, while Oishi and Tezuka brought up the rear, with Oishi looking ready to dig a hole and bury himself and Tezuka's stern face killing laughter before it could be voiced. No one would dare laugh at Tezuka Kunimitsu — not even when he was wearing a long blue evening gown and pearls.  
  
The pack made sure to parade through all the hallways before, like a well-coordinated flight maneuver, dropping its members off at their classrooms. First Tezuka, then Oishi, then Kawamura, and finally Inui.  
  
Finally only Kikumaru and Fuji remained, and they linked arms, making their way to 3-6.   
  
A few girls actually were a bit jealous, because the two pretty boys managed to pull off the mini-skirts better than they could. It was a shame that beauty was wasted on two boys.  
  
Fuji's feet were hurting from the stilletos he'd borrowed from his sister, but he knew it'd been well-worth it. There was no way anyone would doubt they'd won this year's competition.  
  
Senior pranks. It was tradition, after all.  
  
Besides, who knew Inui could swing his hips like that?


	9. Within White Walls

Aishuu Offers:  
**Within White Walls**  
Fandom: Prince of Tennis  
Pairing: Yukimura/Kirihara  
Notes: Too much time in a hospital drives you nuts. Really. For the tempsmort healing challenge, 42 minutes on the clock.

Yukimura Seichi hated hospitals.   
  
When he'd gotten sick, he'd done his best to avoid being committed, but eventually there had been no avoiding it. His doctor, Haragata-sensei, had told his parents he needed to be kept for observation as his condition progressed, and that was that. No matter how mature he was, Yukimura was only fourteen, and his parents controlled his life.  
  
They stopped by daily, on their way home from work, but his hospital stay was a long-term proposition and he knew that his father worried about the medical costs not covered by insurance. His mother had just gotten a job at a flower shop to help defray expenses, which was why she wasn't around as often as he imagined she'd liked to be. He knew she worried about him, with good reason.  
  
He knew they kept him here in an attempt to make him well, but he was of the firm opinion that hospitals were only good for driving a person mad. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since coming, since every four hours someone would stop by and take his vitals. That was really the only time he saw the staff, with the exception of Akari, the dietician, who would take an order three times a day. She had a pleasant smile, but he was tired of those pleasant, let's-be-nice-to-the-invalid smiles.  
  
The lack of privacy grated on his nerves, but he welcomed the interruptions, routine though they were, because they kept him from brooding too deeply. It wasn't his nature to fall into despair, but he'd been depressed ever since coming.  
  
There were twenty-four hours in a day – that was 1,440 minutes, or 86,400 seconds. He knew that too well, especially since he'd been stuck within the same four white walls for the last thirty-eight days. Each moment seemed to drag, reminding him of everything he'd lost.  
  
Before, all he'd had to worry about was keeping his team on the course for the Nationals, and from killing each other. Now, that seemed like a far-off dream, a different life.  
  
He was scared. He could end up permanently paralyzed… or die.   
  
He'd never thought about dying before. He was fourteen, and he had his entire life before him. But his body was failing, and though the doctors said it was rare, his condition did occasionally lead to death.  
  
He dreamed of death now, imagining what it'd feel like if his heart stopped working, or the muscles around his lungs became paralyzed. Would it hurt? Or would it be like falling asleep, and not waking up?  
  
He hated thinking on it. He wanted distraction, but there were only so many books he could read, so many times he could go to the activity room and play video games with the other long term pediatric patients. He began to both long and loath for the visits from his teammates. Sanada and Yanagi came most frequently, and their seriousness beat down on him, adding stress to his already burdened soul.  
  
Sanada worried for him. It was clear, in those dark eyes, that the pressure of carrying the team and Yukimura's hopes for a third National title bothered the vice captain.  
  
"They're doing well," he said on Yukimura's thirty-fourth day in the hospital.  
  
Sanada had managed to convince the nurse to let him take Yukimura for a walk on the hospital grounds, a rare treat. The flowers were blooming, and Yukimura was seating on the bench, touching their fragile petals.  
  
"I knew they would," Yukimura said. It was true that Rikkai was a strong team, and even without his presence would probably race straight for the title. He felt like he was talking about something distant, something that didn't concern him.  
  
"They're working harder for you."  
  
Yukimura hated that. He wished that his team didn't feel motivated to get the National "for buchou" but rather for the sheer thrill of the championship itself. He felt they were misdirected, but didn't know how to correct them. He couldn't break their hearts like that.  
  
"I'm proud of them," he said, giving Sanada the smile he expected.  
  
Talking to Yanagi was worse, because Yanagi spent so much time researching Guillain Barre. Yanagi had his own theories what Yukimura should be doing, and always said that he should ask for second and third opinions. However, he did firmly support the surgery which his primary doctor had suggested to speed recovery.  
  
"It does sound a bit gruesome, but I think it would be best," Yanagi said on Yukimura's thirty-sixth day in the hospital. "It is, of course, your decision to make."  
  
Yukimura, sitting on his bed with his hands folded in his lap, had nodded slowly. He knew that plasmapheresis was something that his parents were pushing for, but they were being kind and letting him make his own decision. It would mean committing to a series of procedures, and he was frightened of the idea. It sounded vampiric.  
  
"I've had a cold, so they're not ready for it," Yukimura said honestly. "And I haven't decided."  
  
Yanagi had nodded slowly. "We only want what's best for you."  
  
That was the case with everyone. Everyone wanted what was best for Yukimura, and Yukimura wanted to be left alone… but he hated the loneliness.   
  
On his thirty-ninth day in the hospital, Yukimura Seichi wondered what the point was. He hated the life he was leading, and wondered if getting better was possible. The life he'd led before seemed so far away.  
  
"Ne, buchou? You busy?"  
  
Green eyes looked at him curiously, and he blinked at Kirihara Akaya, the team's second year prodigy, who stood wearing casual clothing and a grin that meant mischief.  
  
Kirihara's visits had always been the most irregular, and he'd usually been accompanied by another teammate. During Kirihara's first year, he'd decided, as vice captain, that someone needed to be assigned to keep an eye on Kirihara to keep the mayhem he caused under reasonable control.  
  
"Who's with you?" he asked, leaning forward a bit in an attempt to see if Jackal lurked out of sight.  
  
"You are now," Kirihara said cheerfully, before slouching over and taking a place on the bed without a by-your-leave.   
  
Yukimura laughed a bit, amused as always. Kirihara wasn't rude, so much as oblivious to social niceties. "I don't think Sanada will accept that."  
  
Kirihara winked. "You outrank him," he said impishly.  
  
Giggles welled up in Yukimura, and he changed them into a polite cough. Guys didn't giggle, and he received enough hell about his feminine face as it was. "Akaya, are you trying to get me in trouble?"  
  
"I wouldn't do that!" Kirihara protested. "Sanada would blame me! He always does!" he said, before starting in on a long-winded rant on Sanada's temper and unfair practice policies.  
  
Yukimura found himself laughing several times as Kirihara forgot about anything except his irritation. Kirihara was nothing if not honest, and his snide opinions on Marui's weight (he'd gained five pounds), Jackal's nerves (Yukimura suspected that between Kirihara's own antics and Niou's latest pranks, the half-Brazilian would have a nervous break-down before graduation), Niou and Yagyuu (or Yagyuu and Niou, depending on the day), Yanagi and his data, and last but definitely not least Sanada and his temper, had Yukimura rolling.   
  
He leaned back against his bed, hitting the button so it moved into a fully upright position and let Kirihara's voice roll over him. Every now and then Kirihara would ask an opinion, but then he would plough on, undeterred.  
  
Kirihara had been going on for nearly two hours when the nurse came in to take vitals, and it was like coming crashing to the ground after remembering how to fly. He tried not to sulk as the wrist cuff squeezed for his blood pressure, and Kirihara went still.  
  
It only took two minutes, but Kirihara seemed subdued. It occurred to him then that somehow or other that he'd never seen Yukimura being fussed over.  
  
"I'm sorry," Kirihara said abruptly, rising to his feet. "I… forgot."  
  
He raised a hand to forestall the second year from leaving. "Please… stay."  
  
Kirihara looked uncertain as he settled down a bit more uncertainly. "They don't know I'm here," he said. "I just wanted to see you. You're the only one who really listens to me."  
  
Something clenched in Yukimura's chest, and he felt like a release valve had been let go. He felt a genuine smile spread across his face as he realized that Kirihara was visiting him and not his invalid captain. Only with Kirihara could he feel like himself, and forget about his problems.  
  
"Akaya," he said, and he smiled, reaching out and pulling the younger boy closer. It was awkward, but he managed to wrap his arms around the impulsive boy. Kirihara smelled like the outdoors and soap, a clean fresh fragrance with a hint of something more.  
  
Kirihara seemed a bit stunned, but then he wrapped his arms around Yukimura as well, leaning against his chest for a second. Kirihara, though, could only stay affectionate for a second before pulling back, an impish smile on his face, with his angular eyes sparkling. Most people would have made statements of how they missed Yukimura, or how they wanted Yukimura to get well quickly, but Kirihara wasn't like that.  
  
"Sanada is going to be so jealous. He has pictures of you in his locker."  
  
This time Yukimura _did_ giggle. 


	10. Supporting Player

Aishuu Offers:  
**Supporting Player**  
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei  
Notes: For the "Blind" challenge at Tenipuri500. One-sided Taka/Ryoma. Per demand. Lexarose asked, and so shall she receive.

There were times when he found himself unable to stop staring at the young freshmen, his eyes drawn like matter to a black hole. There was just something about Echizen Ryoma that commanded attention, something that demanded that people stand up and pay their respects because it was due.  
  
He knew that he existed on the periphery of Ryoma's life, someone who hardly counted in the first year's existence. He wasn't the best player on Seigaku, barely holding onto the alternate spot. He loved tennis, loved the feel of the grip in his hand as he rose to challenge the best junior players in the nation, but it wasn't going to be forever. He had other obligations, and unlike the others, this was the height of his tennis career. For him, there would be no promise of high school on the horizon, no games to be played later. It was now or never.  
  
He accepted this, just like he accepted everything, because that was the way life worked.  
  
Maybe that was why he felt Ryoma's pull so strongly. There was a charisma about the younger boy, a certainty that he would reach his goals, and now was merely a stepping-stone. His tennis was the stuff of legends, to be told to students yet to come for years, but that didn't stop him from trying to get better.  
  
He knew that Ryoma had his sights set on Tezuka, maybe going through Fuji first. He knew that this was the way things had to be. Fuji's tennis had awoken in finding an opponent on their very own team to keep him from being lazy. Tezuka needed someone to pass on his legacy, and it was natural that the best gravitate toward each other.  
  
He knew that he wasn't the best. He knew that he wasn't the smartest, like Inui, who kept Ryoma on his toes by threatening him with strange diets and stranger drinks. Even his "nice guy" personality wasn't needed, because Ryoma turned to Kikumaru and Momoshiro when he needed laughter.  
  
So he stayed away, because he could offer nothing.  
  
He still couldn't keep his eyes from following, though. It was the same was he had once followed Tezuka, but without the jealousy. He was older now, and knew that someone was greater than he could ever dream to be. He knew that someday, perhaps Katsuo or Horio would regard Ryoma with the same peculiar mixture of affection and jealousy he himself held for Tezuka, and wished there was some way he could protect Ryoma.  
  
Ryoma never knew.  
  
Ryoma was his typical oblivious self, and never knew. Ryoma never saw that someone liked him, cared for him, or existed. He'd seen how the first year treated the Sakuno girl, and he didn't want to be shot down in the same manner. Sometimes it was better to watch from afar.  
  
Then one day, he did become of use to Ryoma. Strangely, it wasn't a cocky Ryoma who demanded his time, but a quiet and subdued one, one who bowed before him low and with respect. One who called him senpai.  
  
And he couldn't deny him.  
  
The smile he was given in turn was like watching the sun break the horizon, golden and glorious, yet somehow different than every smile he'd seen before. As he stared into those golden eyes, which glittered with determination, Kawamura Takashi vowed to do everything in his power to make Echizen Ryoma happy.  
  
Even if it meant staying in the background of the tale. 


	11. Letters to Tezuka

Aishuu Offers:

Letters to Tezuka

Disclaimers: Konomi's toys.

* * *

1.

I'm glad to hear you're settling in. I hope the dictionary I gave you will help.

If you need anything, please let me know.

2.

No, I won't make Inui run twenty laps. It's your own fault he has your cell number.

3.

Practice is going well.

Ryoma has been working on mastering a version of your Tezuka zone. Well... it's kind of an opposite thing. Whenever the opponent hits the ball TO him, the ball automatically spins so it's out of play. It's really interesting to watch.

Fuji is still not reaching his potential, but Momoshiro is rising to the occasion.

The one I'm worried about is Oishi. I think the stress may be too much for him - maybe you can offer him a few words of advice?

4.

Oishi's been muttering "Don't be careless" under his breath for the last two days. That wasn't exactly what I meant, Tezuka.

Maybe you should... try again?

5.

Everyone was on the verge of dropping dead of exhaustion after today.

You did NOT need to tell Oishi that laps were the key to success. I think he broke your record for handing out punishment laps today. I only stepped in when he ordered Eiji to do laps for smiling at Fuji.

Tezuka, what I meant was for you to let him know that the team will be able to support him. It sounds better if you say it.

6.

Tezuka... I really don't like you right now.

7.

Sorry for that letter, I just needed to vent.

When Oishi arranges group "bonding activities" that have trust falls, there's a problem. Kaidou dropped Momoshiro (I do think it was an accident - Ryoma distracted them), and they've been fighting worse than usual since.

As to your question, Fuji is acting normally. Is there any reason I should be concerned?

8.

Yes, I promise not to give your new e-mail address to Inui, but he'll probably find out, anyway.

We have the Jousei match in a week, and I think they'll do well. Have any ideas for the line-up? I'm not sure if I should try the Fuji-Kawamura pair again - their record isn't that great, but I don't have any other ideas. Kaidou has to play in singles three, so...

9.

Inui-Momoshiro? Are you... sure that's a good idea? I know you'd prefer I use Inui-Kaidou, but that's not going to happen. Kaidou received a challenge, and I have to put him there.

10.

DID YOU KNOW ABOUT FUJI AND RYOMA?

Tezuka, this is not the kind of secret you keep from your coach.

11.

Yes, I appreciate the need for discretion, but when all the first years walk in on Fuji with his tongue down Ryoma's throat, we have a problem. I would suspend both, but I don't have any alternates. Can you please talk to them both and maybe tell them that discretion is wise?

Oh, Atobe Keigo called me to get your new e-mail address. Should I give it to him?

12.

Atobe's address is I don't see why you're insisting on e-mailing him first.

Two days to Jousei. Oishi is doing much better, but Kaidou seems to have come down with a cold. He's going Hsss cough, cough sssss.... It's really rather amusing.

Thanks for whatever you said to Fuji. He seems to be ignoring Ryoma at the moment.

13.

It was very kind of you to message the team before the match. It really made a difference.

Oishi-Kikumaru, Kaidou and Ryoma won their matches, and Inui-Momoshiro lost. I think it had something to do with the fact that Inui inadvertently poisoned Momoshiro. We're seriously going to be talking about banning those juices of his. I think half the team now had full-blown phobias.

14.

Telling Fuji to date someone his own age wasn't what I meant. I caught him and Kawamura in an even more compromising situation today.

Tezuka... if I catch him making out with a teammate again, I'll be forced to take action.

15.

I deny any and all attempts to rig the bowling tournament. Really, Tezuka, you shouldn't listen to Eiji. He's excitable.

16.

You should have told Atobe to be more discreet. It's not my fault he gave your address to Sanada - and definitely not my fault that Yanagi got it from there. Deal with Inui yourself.

Speaking of Rikkai, you might be interested in knowing Fuji requested to play Kirihara. He actually seems - gasp - motivated.

17.

Yes, I checked and Fuji hasn't had any Inui Juice since the Aozu incident. Though he did manage to slip it into the team's gatorade two days ago.

Yes, Ryoma is fine. Why do you ask?

18.

Did you KNOW Ryoma moved onto Momoshiro after Fuji broke up with him? They were making out by the bicycle rack where anyone could have seen them.

Enclosed is one picture, just so you can be as traumatized as I am.

19.

The picture I sent you mysteriously ended up in the club's scrapbook - with SuperGlue. I can't get it out without tearing up the District championship certificate that's on the other side.

WHO did you send it to?

20.

You're kidding - just Oishi?

Tezuka, you need to tell me the truth.

21.

I forgot Kikumaru had Oishi's password. Apparently he forwarded it to everyone else.

My apologies if I was... sharp... with you. I settled on just covering it with a new picture - one more acceptable.

22.

Tezuka, I'm going to ask you this as your mentor.

Since when have you been dating Atobe Keigo? The pictures burn my eyes.

23.

Ah, maybe you should check out

24.

No, I will not make Fuji run 100 laps. If you notice, he's featured quite prominently, so I think it was someone else. Though the entire "tru boi luv" section featuring Oishi and Kikumaru was a bit more explicit. I think I am going to have nightmares.

25.

SAKUNO and TOMOKO? You're kidding. My granddaughter would never do anything like that. Tomoko, maybe, but Sakuno's too sweet.

26.

Okay, you win. I traced the IP and it's coming from Sakuno's house.

I promise, I'll discipline her.

How many times do you expect to change e-mail addresses, by the way?


	12. Stuck in the Middle With You

Aishuu Offers:

**Stuck in the Middle With You**  
Prince of Tennis  
Fuji x Oishi

* * *

The day Fuji walked off the tennis court after casually kissing Oishi in front of team changed things irrevocably. He outed them with his seemingly careless gesture, but nothing Fuji ever did was careless.

They had begun to date in their first year of high school. Fuji wasn't quite sure who approached who, but one day Oishi had been a casual acquaintance, the boy who was best friends with _his_ best friends, and the next Oishi was his boyfriend.

It was a subtle thing. Being gay wasn't easy, since it seriously limited dating prospects. Fuji had known for as long as he could remember that he liked other boys, but it didn't mean that other boys liked him. Tezuka was handsome, Eiji was cute, and both were straight as the lines on a tennis court. It was an instinct he had, the legendary "gaydar," that told him that his best friends would never be interested. Their eyes never lingered on anyone in the locker rooms, and whenever Tezuka blushed slightly when a girl brushed against him, or Eiji began rambling about his latest date, it drove home the point. He knew that. He accepted that, and knew that they would never be more than friends.

Oishi, though, was a different story.

Their eyes met and caught occasionally, a secret unspoken seeming to pass between them. _Are you?_ Oishi's eyes would seem to ask, and Fuji's smile would change slightly, acknowledging a kindred spirit.

Then one night they found themselves alone in the locker room, long after the others had left, and before either of them really realized what was happening, they were making out. Oishi had tasted like peppermint, and had been a bit clumsy, but Fuji was sure his own kisses hadn't been the most experienced, either.

It took half an hour to find the willpower to pull himself out of the sheer bliss of being held and stroked and feeling so damn _good_, but eventually he managed to break off a kiss that had involved a lot of tongue and hands wandering to places that really weren't proper. Both of them had been breathing raggedly, and Oishi looked a bit stunned and a bit scared.

"Now what?" Oishi had asked.

"I have a great video collection. Do you like foreign films?" Fuji had replied.

Oishi had blinked, then nodded. That night, they started dating.

Inviting Oishi home had been innocent enough, and it had taken time to learn about the other. Despite the fact they were on the same team, and both were extremely close to Tezuka and Kikumaru, neither really knew each other that well. They remedied that problem, in between sessions of cuddling.

On the courts, though, nothing changed. They remained as they always did, the opposites sides of a square composed of themselves and Kikumaru and Tezuka, related but never touching. It was an unspoken agreement, the concern of what would happen if they came out, the concern that others perceptions of them would irrevocably change. Neither wanted to see fear in Kikumaru's eyes, or carefully controlled disgust in Tezuka's. They doubted that anyone would approve.

It was hard to find time to spend together while maintaining the secrecy. Fuji's house was their refuge, since Yuuta was still in boarding school and Yumiko had moved out. His parents could have cared less what their oldest was doing, as long as his grades were good and he was still winning in tennis.

He wasn't sure if he loved Oishi or not, but he definitely liked him, and that was rare. Fuji liked few people. Oishi was like him in some respect, seemingly gentle, but with a spirit of diamond, glittering and unbreakable. Oishi had depths that he found fascinating, because every time he thought he finally knew the quiet doubles player, Oishi would surprise him.

Oishi was as stubborn as he was, and despite his nervous and sweet temperament, he would not bend to Fuji's will. He was one of the people who would stand up when Fuji pushed him too hard, and Fuji found him challenging.

Before they knew it, they were in their second year, and still dating. Fuji liked the physical touch, finding the warmth of Oishi's hands appealing. Gradually their awkwardness vanished, and they grew more daring. How to have sex with another male wasn't something that was taught in schools, and it had been something they approached cautiously. It wasn't about love, not for either, but both were curious and wanted more. Still, they were both virgins, and that presented a problem.

They'd heard second hand stories from people, locker room gossip, which made crude innuendoes, but the mechanics of it had been different. They had managed to figure it out, in a fumbling sort of way, but their first time wasn't the fireworks and whistles they had hoped for. But they were tennis players, so practicing was already part of their philosophy. They weren't quite sure if they were doing it _right_ but whatever they did felt damn good, and that was what mattered.

When third year rolled around, Oishi returned to his position as vice captain, and Fuji secured the third singles slot, since by this time Echizen Ryoma was back and already better than he was. It bugged him a bit, and he couldn't complain to Tezuka or Kikumaru, but he could talk to Oishi. Oishi became his confidant, and he found he liked having someone to talk to. Oishi had a way of soothing people, and he knew that Oishi found his oscillating moods endlessly fascinating.

Maybe that was when he fell a bit in love.

Fuji was one to keep secrets, but he wasn't one to hide. Oishi was a person who was very open with his feelings, and sometimes Fuji would catch him staring at him across the tennis court. It was infuriating, to be constrained by the mores of society, about how being gay was evil, and one day Fuji had enough, and decided to act.

He didn't speak to Oishi beforehand, because he knew how his lover would react.

It was a casual thing, and carefully planned. Toward the end of practice on a Saturday, he asked Tezuka for permission to leave early. Tezuka hadn't been happy, but the request had been granted. Oishi, who had been talking to their captain at the time, wished Fuji a pleasant weekend.

"Sure think, Oishi," Fuji said, leaning over and brushing a quick kiss across his cheek before vacating the suddenly silent court. He didn't wait to watch the explosion, knowing that there would be one.

Oishi had come over that night, and he had been gloriously angry. They had their first fight.

"Why did you do that, Fuji?"

"Because I'm tired of hiding who I am. How did they take it?"

"Some of them thought you were joking."

"Only some?"

"The ones who know you best know you were serious."

"I was."

"Fuji, I didn't want to be outed! I have college and scholarships, and what will my family think..."

"You're gay. I'm gay. That's not going to change."

Oishi had been exploded then, worried about his future. He had always had dreams of an understanding wife and a child or two, but with his actions, Fuji had very likely wiped it out.

Tennis practice on Monday was nearly unbearable. Tezuka ordered them both to do 100 laps, and Kikumaru wasn't able to look either of them in the face. It was the start of the alienation from the team.

The team fractured. Momoshiro was highly homophobic, and Kikumaru was angry at them for keeping secrets. Tezuka said nothing, but he began to spend less time with the both of them. Inui, with his incessant scribbling, was perhaps the most annoying.

"I hear that regular sex increases tennis performance," he said to Fuji one day. "From my data, you and Oishi started having sex in February of last year."

The strain and stress shown of their relationship. Being out in the open was hard, because the label of "pretty boy" that Fuji had always tried to distance himself from was now the polite thing he was called. Oishi let many things was over him, but the day an underclassmen dropped the tennis team for fear it would turn him queer was the final straw.

He dumped Fuji, but he was polite about it.

"I'm sorry, Fuji, but it's just not working out."

By then, Fuji was numb. Graduation was on the horizon, and the world was opening up. He wasn't sure if Oishi was his first love or any kind of love at all. All Fuji wanted was to go back to the days when Oishi had been the man he had barely known, an acquaintance who he heard about through Kikumaru, or who Tezuka would occasional be occupied with. He didn't want to go to restaurant and think that _hamaguri no osui mono_ was Oishi's favorite food, or remember the feel of Oishi's hands on his body just before he fell asleep.

But he couldn't undo the memories.

The day they graduated, he gave each of his teammates a photo of the entire team he had taken back in ninth grade. Kawamura was in it, but aside from that, the team had stayed the same. He and Oishi were standing far apart in it with Tezuka and Kikumaru between them, which was how things should have remained. 


	13. Glasses

**Glasses**

by Aishuu

A Tennis no Oujisama fanfic

* * *

He would wager, with 80 percent accuracy, that Kikumaru had something to do with it. He was fond of pranks, after all, but there was always the possibility that Momoshiro had been involved - along with a five percent margin for error that Fuji always represented in his calculations.

Either way, when he fumbled for his glasses after the shower, blind as a bat, his hand found the pair right where he'd left his. Shoving them on with his customary haste, he noted with surprise that they felt lighter for some reason. A bit suspicious, he headed for the club room's only mirror after wrapping himself in a towel.

The gold-rimmed frames made his face look less threatening, and he could see his eyes. He wasn't sure if he liked it.

"Tezuka?" he called back to the shower area.

"Yes?" The shower cubicle lent Tezuka's voice a certain hollow tone, its already deep tones echoing against the tile walls.

"Someone switched our glasses," he announced.

"Then switch them back," Tezuka sounded cool as usual.

Inui nodded, seeing that as the logical course. He made his way to Tezuka's area, noting his glasses on the towel. Temptation got the better of him.

"Tezuka? Can you step out for a second?"

An annoyed "hrmph" answered him, but he stepped out, his arms across his chest as he stood squinting, unconcerned about his nudity. "Yes?" he seemed a bit testy.

Inui couldn't resist. Hastily he grabbed his glasses, and shoved them on Tezuka's face.

It was strange to see the strong lines of Tezuka's face competing with by the black squares of the frames. It should have been hysterically funny, but Inui felt his stomach twist.

"Can you see?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine," Tezuka replied. His face looked even more foreboding. "What is this about?"

Inui touched the glasses he was wearing, before lowering his eyes. "I didn't realize we wore the same prescription."


	14. 20 Random Facts About Kikumaru Eiji

_ 20 Random Facts About Kikumaru Eiji_  
By **aishuu**  
Rating: Borderline R  
Disclaimer: Konomi's, of course.  
Note: My usual toys (Kirihara, Tezuka, Fuji, and Oishi) have already been covered, so I decided to write something for Eiji.

* * *

1. When he was little, Eiji had a cavity in one of his baby teeth. The experience of getting a filling forever imprinted the importance of good dental hygiene. He's actually scarily obsessive about it, although he pretends it's because he likes toothpaste.

2. If Eiji lived in someplace where it was vogue to take children to counseling, he would have been diagnosed almost immediately with ADHD. Since he lives in Japan, his parents and teachers merely yell at him, thinking he should learn how to control his impulses better - at least until they toss their hands up in the air giving him up as a lost cause even as they smile at his antics.

3. Eiji isn't always in a good mood, but he's learned that people won't be as ready to welcome him if he's being cranky. He tries his best to keep smiling no matter what.

4. He lives for their approval, after all. He is the fifth child in his family, and he's carved himself a niche as being the "fun one."

5. Eiji's family isn't as well off as most of the students who go to Seigaku, but he's never wanted for anything. There may be times his parents can't afford the latest game set or his allowance is notable smaller than others, but that's okay. He'll just go over to a friend's house and use theirs.

6. Eiji likes sharing a room with his older brother, except when he doesn't. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to have a space of his own, where no one else was welcome. He imagines all the cool things he could do with his own place. Then he falls to sleep, lulled by the sound of his brother's gentle breathing.

7. If there's one thing Eiji is scared of, it's being alone. He doesn't know how to handle solitude.

8. While many would consider him closest to Oishi, Eiji knows that Fuji is really his best friend - or maybe Momoshiro if he's feeling particularly desperate. There's just some things he can't tell his partner, because silly as it sounds, he wants to keep Oishi's respect more than anything else.

9. When he first met Fuji, he thought the other boy was weird. Further acquaintance has reaffirmed that belief, but he still likes him.

10. He likes all his teammates, although there are times when he wants to smack Echizen Ryoma upside the head. Confidence is one thing, arrogance is another completely. Towards the end of nationals matches, he finally got fed up enough to act on the impulse. A quick, satisfying swat evoked a yelp of pain, and Eiji indulged in a smile. His team thought he'd just taken a joke too far, and he got away without punishment.

11. No one really takes him seriously, and he gets away with saying the most outrageous things because of that. Once he asked an unpopular English teacher if women with chin hair were considered attractive in America. The next day, she showed up with traces of wax along her neck.

12. When he graduates, he and the rest of the regulars offer buttons of their uniform jackets to Ryuuzaki-sensei tied to a key chain. The old lady smiles and looks about ready to tear up, but she quickly turns brusque, telling them to eat the celebration cake she made. He likes knowing that at least part of his tennis team will remain at Seigaku.

13. He's not sad to graduate, because he can see all the possibilities in front of him. Even though Eiji lives very much in the _now_, he has tons of wonderful dreams. He's sure they'll come true, because he's never faced serious failure before. A lost match or two is nothing in the scheme of things; they won the nationals, after all, so there is nothing he can't do if he sets his mind to it.

14. As he grows older, he gradually stops using cute exclamations. He still occasionally tags someone with a fun nickname, but as a high schooler, he finds the pressure intense to "act his age."

15. He's the first member of the current Seigaku squad to start dating girls, and to have sex. It's during the summer vacation of his first year of high school, and a girl who is visiting her family in Tokyo catches his attention. Sex is fun, and he enjoys being close to her, exploring her curves and making her giggle with well-placed licks. For a whole week, he thinks he is in love. Then the girl slips from his mind as he is enveloped back into tennis practice as fall returns.

16. He's also the first member (or second, depending on how you look at it) to date boys.

17. He is not attracted to Fuji, no matter how much they flirt. Eiji has self-preservation instincts, and all of them scream whenever Fuji gets too close.

18. Eiji develops a bit of a crush on Tezuka, although he'll never act on it. Their captain is as straight as the lines on the tennis court, but a small part of him fantasizes what it might be like, to be pinned down under Tezuka's strong body. There's just something about Tezuka that takes his breath away... wondering.

19. There's a saying in the Seigaku Tennis Club: if you want to make a school announcement, just tell Eiji and give him five minutes. He's not sure if he's offended by this or not, since he's notorious for his inability to keep his mouth shut, but he does know how to keep a secret. He never tells anyone about the night Fuji showed up on his doorstep at two a.m. without a word of explanation, and he never teases Momoshiro about the time he caught him with An.

20. There's a few other secrets he keeps to himself. It isn't until Oishi is twenty that he finally discovered the reason for the bandage on Eiji's cheek. 


	15. Best Kept Secrets

**Best Kept Secrets**

by aishuu

Credit to Yukihou for providing me with a better ending.

* * *

It was perhaps the best kept secret among the Seigaku tennis team. Though there was no conscious plot to keep it hidden, it benefitted all the regulars to hide the truth, so they did.

Some people might have thought it was Tezuka's phone number, but they would be wrong. Fuji had mailed it in a fit of pique one night to Hyotei's Atobe Keigo, which had triggered a whole chain of events which were amusing for most and painful for Kawamura and Ibu Shinji of Fudomine.

Others might have guessed it was the ingredients of Inui juice, but Inui was always quite willing to share his formulas with others, provided they sample it.

A few might even have believed it was the true nature of Oishi and Kikumaru's relationship, but Kikumaru would freely admit that while Oishi had a great ass, he much preferred the company of women, and was currently hanging around Fuji in hopes that Yumiko would someday decide she was interested in dating a much younger man.

No, Seigaku was an open kind of place. Secrets didn't remain secret for that long. The biggest secret of Seigaku, unsurprisingly, involved Kaidou Kaoru.

Simply put, Kaidou Kaoru was a soft touch.

He wasn't a pushover, exactly - anyone who'd ever seen him argue with Momoshiro would know that - but Kaidou simply didn't possess the ability to say no when someone asked him a favor. It came from trying to be a good senpai and a good kohai, and a whole slew of other manners that kept him from turning anyone down. People may have thought that Oishi, with his mothering nature, or Kawamura, in his kindness, would have been the best people to go to to get things done, but that wasn't they way the world worked.

By the end of Kaidou's first year, it was obvious to his senpai that he would do what he was asked and do it well. Most of them found it relatively pleasant, especially after dealing with the hot-tempered Momoshiro and Arai. A few began to take advantage of it - like Oishi. Whenever he needed something done, he would ask Kaidou, and it would be done promptly and well.

Gradually it progressed so all of his teammates were doing the same. If Tezuka didn't feel like ordering first years to deal with the nets, he'd ask Kaidou to manage them. If Inui had a project he needed a subject for, Kaidou was always his first pick. When Fuji had somewhere else to be, he'd always dump whatever work he needed done on his capable underclassmen's shoulders, and Kikumaru followed his example readily.

Sometimes Kaidou would start to get rebellious about his role, but then someone would remind him of his manners, and he would bite his tongue and suffer through it.

When the third years graduated, he breathed a sigh of relief, figuring that he was finally finished being everyone's lap dog. Ryuuzaki even appointed him captain, which he figured was a just reward for all of his hard work.

He didn't realize how wrong he was until he arrived the day before practice started to organize the clubroom.

"Kaidou, I'm glad you're here! I've got a ton of work to prepare for classes, and would you mind maybe taking care of a few things for me?" Ryuuzaki Sumire asked, waving a pile of papers meant for the tennis club.

If Kaidou had been the type, he would have cried. Instead, he merely hissed at her which confirmed the unequivocal fact that everyone already knew.

Marshmallow. Pure marshmallow.


	16. On the Naughty List

** On the Naughty List**

_ by aishuu_

Note: For reddwarfer as a prize for "Blind Go." Request: Tezuka/Fuji with them ending up together, and keyword is "vacation." It kinda ended up humorous, but still fluffy!

* * *

Tezuka, Fuji knew, was disgustingly obsessed with lists. 

Fuji appreciated a certain amount of organization, but Tezuka took it to extremes. He wrote everything down, numbering and ordering his priorities in crisp, precise kanji. Had he been a girl, Fuji was sure Tezuka would use color-coding in vibrant pinks and blues and yellows, but his masculine pride forced him to settle for mere descending columns. He would neatly check off each goal he accomplished, eventually finishing all the tasks on the list, only to start a new list upon completion.

It was very efficient, Fuji was forced to admit, but it lacked spontaneity. Tezuka never failed in any of his responsibilities, but he rarely did anything unexpected.

Fuji himself was a "mental order" person, someone who kept his duties arranged in his head. He managed to get everything done, too, but his priorities would shift from moment to moment. He wasn't disorganized, although Tezuka claimed he was erratic. Fuji would just smile, knowing that not everything in life could be planned.

He came across one of those infamous lists while they were preparing for a winter vacation trip during their senior year in high school. They were in the coach's room, where Tezuka did most of his paperwork for student council. Fuji accompanied him when he had the time, like that Tuesday afternoon. Tezuka just ignored him, knowing Fuji would do what he wanted even if rebuked.

Leaning over Tezuka's shoulder, Fuji squinted to read what Tezuka had written. They'd been together for a couple of years, and Tezuka was used to Fuji's violations of his personal space. He just moved his head, giving Fuji a better view.

Like usual, Tezuka had done research on Hawaii, finding cost-effective tours and "must see" sights. There was more than one mountain climbing expedition planned, but he'd considerately found a photographer's tour that Fuji would like. Their trip was a private one where they planned to discuss what their future would hold. Fuji noted that Tezuka had actually scheduled time - two evenings - for those discussions.

"Did you remember to plan bathroom breaks?" Fuji asked a bit sarcastically.

Tezuka sighed, then dutifully started to rearrange his schedule, allotting ten-minute blocks for snacks, restroom stops and water breaks.

"I was kidding." Fuji said. It was hard not to find Tezuka's compulsiveness irritating, but Fuji recognized it was merely part of his character. Everything had its time and place in Tezuka's ordered world.

"It's a good idea," Tezuka said.

"Is there any specific reason we're scheduling every single moment of the vacation?" Fuji asked. "It might be nice to you know, just wander and see what we find."

"I don't want to miss anything," Tezuka answered. "Having a well constructed plan can maximize our enjoyment of our trip."

"As long as we're together, I'll be happy," Fuji replied, smiling like he was kidding, but telling the truth. He wasn't good about admitting his feelings, instead camoflaging his more serious emotions under a laid-back facade.

Tezuka smiled, and scribbled something else onto the list. Fuji took a peek, and started to snicker. "Make mad, passionate love on the beach?" he read, wondering if Tezuka was developing a sense of humor. "Are you serious?"

"It's on the list, isn't it?"


End file.
